True Words for Brave Men: A Book for Soldiers' and Sailors' Libraries

Oh, young people, young people, listen to what I say!  You can be, you will be, you must be, the builders of your own good or bad fortunes.  On you it depends whether your lives shall be honourable and happy, or dishonourable and sad.  There is no such thing as luck or fortune in this world.  What is called Fortune is nothing else than the orderly and loving providence of the Lord Jesus Christ, who orders all things in heaven and earth, and who will, sooner or later, reward every man according to his works.  Just in proportion as you do the will of your Father in heaven, just so far will doing His will bring its own blessing and its own reward.

Instead of hoping for good fortune which may never come, or fearing bad fortune which may never come either, pray, each of you, for the Holy Spirit of God, the Spirit of right-doing, which is good fortune in itself; good fortune in this world; and in the world to come, everlasting life.  Fear God and keep His commandments, and all will be well.  For who is the man who is master of his own luck?  The Psalmist tells us, in Psalm xv., “He that leadeth an uncorrupt life, and doeth the thing which is right, and speaketh the truth from his heart.”  “He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour.  In whose eyes a vile person is contemned; but he honoureth them that fear the Lord: he that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not.  He that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent.”

Whoso doeth these things shall never fall.  And as long as you are doing those things, you may rejoice freely and heartily in your youth, believing that the smile of God, who gave you the power of being happy, is on your happiness; and that your heavenly Father no more grudges harmless pleasure to you, than He grudges it to the gnat which dances in the sunbeam, or the bird which sings upon the bough.  For He is The Father,—and what greater delight to a father than to see his children happy, if only, while they are happy, they are good?

XX. GOD’S BEAUTIFUL WORLD.—A SPRING SERMON

“Bless the Lord, O my soul.  O Lord my God, thou art very great: thou art clothed with honour and majesty.  Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain: who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind.”

    —Ps. civ. 1-3.

At this delicious season of the year, when spring time is fast ripening into summer, and every hedge, and field, and garden is full of life and growth, full of beauty and fruitfulness; and we look back on the long winter, and the boughs which stood bare so drearily for six months, as if in a dream; the blessed spring with its green leaves, and gay flowers, and bright suns has put the winter’s frosts out of our thoughts, and we seem to take instinctively to the warmth, as if it were our natural element—as if we were intended, like the bees and butterflies, to live and work only in the summer days, and not to pass, as we do in this climate, one-third of the year, one-third of our whole lives, in mist, cold, and gloom.  Now, there is a meaning in all this—in our love of bright, warm weather, a very deep and blessed meaning in it.  It is a sign to us where we come from—where God would have us go.  A sign that we came from God’s heaven of light and beauty, that God’s heaven of light and beauty is meant for us hereafter.  That love which we have for spring, is a sign, that we are children of the everlasting Spring, children of the light and of the day, in body and in soul; if we would but claim our birthright!

For you must remember that mankind came from a warm country—a country all of sunshine and joy.  Adam in the garden of Eden was in no cold or severe climate, he had no need of clothes, not even of the trouble of tilling the ground.  The bountiful earth gave him all he wanted.  The trees over his head stretched out the luscious fruits to him—the shady glades were his only house, the mossy banks his only bed.  He was bred up the child of sunshine and joy.  But he was not meant to stay there.  God who brings good out of evil, gave man a real blessing when He drove him out of the garden of Eden.  Men were meant to fill the earth and to conquer it, as they are doing at this day.  They were meant to become hardy and industrious—to be forced to use their hands and their heads to the utmost stretch, to call out into practice all the powers which lay ready in them.  They were meant, in short, according to the great law of God’s world, to be made perfect through sufferings, and therefore it was God’s kindness, and not cruelty, to our forefathers, when He sent them out into the world; and that He did not send them into any exceedingly hot country, where they would have become utterly lazy and profligate, like the negroes and the South Sea islanders, who have no need to work, because the perpetual summer gives them their bread ready-made to their hands.  And it was a kindness, too, that God did not send our forefathers out into any exceedingly cold country, like the Greenlanders and the Esquimaux, where the perpetual winter would have made them greedy, and stunted, and stupid; but that He sent us into this temperate climate, where there is a continual change and variety of seasons.  Here first, stern and wholesome winter, then bright, cheerful summer, each bringing a message and a lesson from our loving Father in heaven.  First comes winter, to make us hardy and daring, and industrious, and strips the trees, and bares the fields, and takes away all food from the earth, and cries to us with the voice of its storms, “He that will not work, neither shall he eat.”  “Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: who layeth up her meat in the summer, and provideth her food against the time of frosts.”  And then comes summer, with her flowers and her fruits, and brings us her message from God, and says to us poor, slaving, hard-worn children of men, “You are not meant to freeze, and toil, and ache for ever.  God loves to see you happy; God is willing to feed your eyes with fair sights, your bodies with pleasant food, to cheer your hearts with warmth and sunshine as much as is good for you.  He does not grieve willingly, nor afflict the children of men.  See the very bees and gnats, how they dance and bask in the sunbeams!  See the very sparrows, how they choose their mates and build their nests, and enjoy themselves as if they were children of the spring!  And are not ye of more value than many sparrows? you who can understand and enjoy the spring, you men and women who can understand and enjoy God’s fair earth ten thousand times more than those dumb creatures can.  It is for you God has made the spring.  It is for your sakes that Christ, the ruler of the earth, sends light and fruitfulness, and beauty over the world year by year.  And why?  Not merely to warm and feed your bodies, but to stir up your hearts with grateful love to Him, the Blessed One, and to teach you what you are to expect from Him hereafter.”

Ay, my friends, this is the message the spring and summer bring with them—they are signs and sacraments from God, earnests of the everlasting spring—the world of unfading beauty and perpetual happiness which is the proper home of man, which God has prepared for those that love Him—the world wherein there shall be no more curse, neither sorrow nor sighing, but the Lord God and the Lamb shall be the light thereof; and the rivers of that world shall be waters of life, and the trees of that world shall be for the healing of the nations; and the children of the Lord God shall see Him face to face, and be kings and priests to Him for ever and ever.  Therefore, I say, rejoice in spring time, and in the sights, and sounds, and scents which spring time, as a rule, brings; and remember, once for all, never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful.  Beauty is God’s hand-writing—God’s image.  It is a wayside sacrament, a cup of blessing; welcome it in every fair landscape, every fair face, every fair flower, and drink it in with all your eyes, and thank Christ for it, who is Himself the well-spring of all beauty, who giveth all things richly to enjoy.

I think, this 104th Psalm is a fit and proper psalm to preach on in this sweet spring time; for it speaks, from beginning to end, of God’s earth, and of His glory, and love, and wisdom which shines forth on this earth.  And though, at first sight, it may not seem to have much to do with Christianity, and with the great mystery of our redemption, yet, I believe and know that it has at bottom all and everything to do with it; that this 104th Psalm is as full of comfort and instruction for Christian men as any other Psalm in the whole Bible.  I believe that without feeling rightly and healthily about this Psalm, we shall not feel rightly or healthily about any other part of the Bible, either Old or New Testament.  At all events God’s inspired psalmist was not ashamed to write this psalm.  God’s Spirit thought it worth while to teach him to write this psalm.  God’s providence thought it worth while to preserve this psalm for us in His holy Bible, and therefore I think it must be worth while for us to understand this psalm, unless we pretend to be wiser than God.  I have no fancy for picking and choosing out of the holy Bible; all Scripture is given by inspiration of God—all Scripture is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, and therefore this 104th Psalm is profitable as well as the rest; and especially profitable to be explained in a few sermons as I said before, at this season when, if we have any eyes to see with, or hearts to feel with, we ought to be wondering at and admiring God’s glorious earth, and saying, with the old prophet in my text, “Praise the Lord, O my soul.  O Lord my God, thou art very great; thou art clothed with honour and majesty.  Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretchest out the heavens as with a curtain: who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind . . . O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches” (Ps. civ. 1, 2, 3, 24).

First, then, consider those wonderful words of the text, how God covers Himself with light as it were with a garment.  Truly there is something most divine in light; it seems an especial pattern and likeness of God.  The Bible uses it so continually.  Light is a pattern of God’s wisdom; for light sees into everything, searches through everything, and light is a pattern of God’s revelation, for light shows us everything; without light our eyes would be useless—and so without God our soul’s eyes would be useless.  It is God who teaches us all we know.  It is God who makes us understand all we understand.  He opens the meaning of everything to us, just as the light shews everything to us; and as in the sunlight only we see the brightness and beauty of the earth, so it is written, “In thy light, O God, we shall see light.”  Thus light is God’s garment.  It shows Him to us, and yet it hides Him from us.  Who could dare or bear to look on God if we saw Him as He is face to face?  Our souls would be dazzled blind, as our eyes are by the sun at noonday.  But now, light is a pattern to us of God’s glory; and therefore it is written, that light is God’s garment, that God dwells in the light which no man can approach unto.  As a wise old heathen nobly said, “Light is the shadow of God;” and so, as the text says, He stretches out those glorious blue heavens above us as a curtain and shield, to hide our eyes from His unutterable splendour, and yet to lift our souls up to Him.  The vastness and the beauty of those heavens, with all their countless stars, each one a sun or a world in itself, should teach us how small we are, how great is our Father who made all these.

When we see a curtain, and know that it bides something beautiful behind it, our curiosity and wonder is awakened, and we long all the more to see what is behind that curtain.  So the glory of those skies ought to make us wonder and long all the more to see the God who made the skies.

But again, the Psalmist says that God lays the beams of His chambers in the waters, and makes the clouds His chariot, and walks upon the wings of the wind! that He makes His angels the storms, and His ministers a flaming fire.  You must not suppose that the psalmist had such a poor notion of the great infinite God, as to fancy that He could be in any one place.  God wants no chambers—even though they were built of the clouds, arched with rainbows, as wide as the whole vault of heaven.  He wants no wind to carry Him—He carries all things and moves all things.  In Him they live, and move, and have their being.  Yet Him—the heaven, and the heaven of heavens cannot contain Him!  He is everywhere and no where—for He is a Spirit; He is in all things, and yet He is no thing—for He was before all things, and in Him all things consist.  He is the Absolute, the Uncreated, the Infinite, the One and the All.  And the old Psalmist knew that as well as we do, perhaps better.  What, then, did he mean by these two last verses?  He meant, that in all those things God was present—that the world was not like a machine, a watch, which God had wound up at the creation, and started off to go of itself; but that His Spirit, His providence, were guiding everything, even as at the first.  That those mists and rain came from Him, and went where He sent them; that those clouds carried His blessings to mankind; that when the thunder shower bursts on one parish, and leaves the next one dry, it is because God will have it so; that He brings the blessed purifying winds out of His treasures, to sweeten and fatten the earth with the fresh breath of life, which they have drunk up from the great Atlantic seas, and from the rich forests of America—that they blow whither He thinks best; that clouds and rain, wind and lightning, are His fruitful messengers and His wholesome ministers, fulfilling His word, each according to their own laws, but also each according to His especial providence, who has given the whole earth to the children of men.  This is the meaning of the Psalmist, that the weather is not a dead machine, but a living, wonderful work of the Spirit of God, the Lord and giver of life.  Therefore we may dare to pray for fair and seasonable weather; we may dare to pray against blight and tempest—humbly, because we know not what is altogether good for us,—but boldly and freely, because we know that there is a living, loving God, governing the weather, who does know what is good for us; who has given us His only begotten Son, and will with Him also give us all things.

And so ends my first sermon on the 104th Psalm.

XXI. WONDERS OF THE SEA; OR DAILY MIRACLES

“Thou coverest the earth with the deep sea as with a garment.”

    —Psalm civ. 6.

When we look at a map of the world, one of the first things that strikes us as curious is, how little dry land there is, and how much sea.  More than half the world covered with deep, wild, raging, waste salt water!  It seems very strange.  Of what use to man can all that sea be?  And yet the Scripture says that the whole earth has God given to the children of men.  And therefore He has given to us the sea which is part of the earth.  But of what use is the sea to us?

We are ready to say at first sight, “How much better if the world had been all dry land?  There would have been so much more space for men to spread on—so much more land to grow corn on.  What is the use of all that sea?”  But when we look into the matter, we shall find, that every word of God stands true, in every jot and tittle of it—that we ought to thank God for the sea as much as for the land—that David spoke truly when he said, in this Psalm civ., that the great and wide sea also is full of God’s riches.

For in the first place—What should we do without water?  Not only to drink, but to feed all trees, and crops which grow.  Those who live in a dry parish know well the need of water for the crops.  In fact, strange as it may seem, out of water is made wood.  You know, perhaps, that plants are made out of the salts in the soil—but not only out of salts—they are made also out of water.  Every leaf and flower is made up only of those two things—salts from the soil, and water from the sky.  Most wonderful!  But so it is.  Water is made up of several very different things.  The leaves and flowers, when they drink up water, keep certain parts of water, and turn them into wood; and the part of the water which they do not want, is just the part which we do want, namely, fresh air, for water is full of fresh air.  And therefore the plants breathe out the fresh air through their leaves, that we may breathe it into our lungs.  More and more wonders, you see, as we go on!

But where does all the rain water and spring water come from?  From the clouds.  And where do the clouds come from?  From the Sea.  The sea water is drawn up by the sun’s heat, evaporated, as we call it, into the air, and makes mist, and that mist grows together into clouds.  And these clouds empty their blessed life-giving treasures on the land—to feed man, and beast, and herb.

But what is it which governs these clouds, and makes them do their appointed work?  The Psalmist tells us, “At Thy rebuke they flee; at the voice of Thy thunder they are afraid.”  He gives the same account of it which wise men now-a-days give.  It is God, he says, and the Providence of God, which raises the clouds, and makes them water the earth.  And the means which He employs is thunder.  Now this is strictly true.  We all know that thunder gathers the clouds together, and brings rain: but we do not all know that the power which makes the thunder, which we call electricity, is working all around us everywhere.  It is only when it bursts out, in flame and noise, which we call lightning and thunder, that we perceive it—but it is still there, this wonderful thing called electricity, for ever at work—giving the clouds their shape, making them fly with vast weights of water through the sky, and then making them pour down that water in rain.

But there is another deep meaning in those words of the Psalmist’s about thunder.  He tells us that at the voice of God’s thunder the waters are afraid—that He has set them their bounds which they shall not pass, nor turn again to cover the earth.  And it is true.  Also that it is this same thunder power which makes dry land—for there is thunder beneath us, and lightning too, in the bowels of the earth.  Those who live near burning mountains know this well.  They see not only flames, but real lightning, real thunder playing about the burning mouths of the fiery mountains—they hear the roaring, the thundering of the fire-kingdom miles beneath their feet, under the solid crust of the earth.  And they see, too, whole hills, ay, whole counties, sometimes, heaved up many feet in a single night, by this thunder under ground—and islands thrown up in the midst of the sea—so that where there was once deep water is now dry land.

Now, in this very way, strange as it may seem, almost all dry land is made.  This whole country of England once lay at the bottom of the sea.  You may now see shells and sea fishes bedded in high rocks and hill tops.  But it was all heaved up by the thunder which works under ground.  There are places in England where I have seen the marks of the fire on the rocks; and the solid stone crushed, and twisted, and melted by the vast force of the fire which thrust up the land from beneath—and thus the land was heaved up from under the waters, and the sea fled away and left its old bed dry—firm land and high cliffs—and as the Psalmist says, “At the voice of God’s thunder the waters were afraid.  Thou hast set them their bounds which they shall not pass, neither turn again to cover the earth.”

Wonderful as all this may seem, all learned men know that it is true.  And this one thing at least it ought to teach us, what a wonderful and Almighty God we have to deal with, whose hand made all these things—and what a loving and merciful God, who makes not only the wind and the sea, and the thunder and the fire kingdoms obey Him, but makes their violence bring blessings to mankind.  The fire kingdom heaves up dry land for men to dwell on—the thunder brings mellow rains—the winds sweep the air clean, and freshen all our breath—and feed the plants with rich air drawn from far forests in America, and from the wild raging seas—the sea sends up its continual treasures of rain—everywhere are harmony and fitness, beauty and use in all God’s works.  He has made nothing in vain.  All His works praise Him, and surely, also, His saints should give thanks to Him!  Oh! my friends—every thunder shower—every fresh south-west breeze, is a miracle of God’s mercy, if we could but see thoroughly into it.

Consider, again, another wonderful proof of God’s goodness in what we call the Tides of the sea.  God has made the waters so, that they can never stand still—the sea is always moving.  Twice a day it rises, and twice a day it sinks and ebbs again all along the shore.  It would take too long to explain why this is—but it is enough to say, that it must be so, from the way in which God has made the earth and the water.  So that it did not come from accident.  God planned and intended it all when He made the sea at first.  His all-foreseeing love settled it all.  Now of what use are these tides?  They keep the sea from rotting, by keeping it in a perpetual stir.  And the sea, as it ebbs and flows, draws the air after it, and so keeps the air continually moving and blowing, therefore continually fresh, and continually carrying in it rich food for plants from one country to another.  There are other reasons why the winds blow, which I have not time to mention now; but they all go to prove the same thing.—How wisely and well the Psalmist said, “Praise the Lord upon earth ye rivers and all deeps.  Fire and hail, snow and vapour, wind and storm, fulfilling His word” (Ps. cxlviii.).

Another use of the sea, again, is the vast quantity of food which it gives.  Labouring men who live inland have no notion of the wonderful fruitfulness of those seemingly barren wastes of water, or how many millions of human beings live mostly on fish.  When we consider those great banks of Newfoundland, where fish enough perhaps to feed all England are caught every season, and sent over the whole world; our own herring fisheries, where thousands of millions of fish are caught yearly—and all the treasures of food and the creeping things innumerable, both small and great beasts, of which the Psalmist speaks; when we consider all this, we shall begin to bless God for the sea, as much as for the land.

“There go the ships,” too, says the Psalmist, in this 104th Psalm, “and there goeth that leviathan, whom Thou hast made to take his pastime therein.”  This leviathan is no doubt the whale—the largest of all living things—often a hundred feet long, and as thick as a house.  And yet even of him, the monster of all monsters, does God’s Word stand true, that He has put all things under man’s feet, that all things are in subjection to man—the fish of the sea, and whatsoever walketh through the paths of the sea.  For even the great whale cannot stand before the cunning of man—God has taught man the means of killing even it, and turning it to his own use.  The whalebone which we use, the oil which we burn in lamps, comes from the bodies of those enormous creatures which wander in the far seas like floating houses, ten thousand miles away.

But again, it is promised in the Bible, that in the new heavens and new earth there shall be no more sea.  When the sea has done its work, God will have done with it—and then there will be no more division between nation and nation—no more long dangerous voyages from one country to another.

And strange to say—the sea is even now at work bringing about this very thing—destroying itself—filling itself up.  Day by day the sea eats away its own shore, and banks, and carries down their remains to make its own bed shallower and shallower, till shoals and new lands arise where there was deep sea before.  So that if the world lasts long enough, the sea by its own laws will be filled up, and dry land appear everywhere.

The bottom of the sea is full, too, of countless millions of strange insects—and yet even in these strange insects there is use; for not only do they give food to countless millions of fishes, but after a time they turn into stone, and form fruitful soil.  There are now in many parts of the world great beds of rock and earth, many feet thick, and miles long, made up entirely out of the skeletons and shells of little insects which lived at the bottom of the sea thousands of years ago.

Are not these things wonderful?  Well, then, remember who made these wonders? who keeps them working?  Your Father—and the Son of God, and the Spirit of God.  The Son of God—ay, think of Him—He by whom all things were made—He by whom all things consist—He to whom all power is given in heaven and earth.  He came down and died on the cross for you.  He calls to you to come and serve Him loyally and gratefully—dare you refuse Him—The Maker and King of this glorious world?  He died for you.  He loves you.  He condescends to beseech you to come to Him that you may have life.  Alas! what can you expect if you will not come to Him?  How will you escape if you turn your back on your Maker, and despise your own Creator when He stoops to entreat you?  Oh folly—Oh madness—Oh utter shame and ruin!

There are some people who do not like science and philosophy, because they say, If you try to explain to people, and make them understand the wonderful things around them, they will stop thinking them wonderful, and so you will spoil their reverence, and “familiarity will breed contempt.”  Now, no doubt a little learning is a dangerous thing, when it makes some shallow conceited fellow fancy he knows all about everything.  But I can truly say, that the more you really do know about this earth, the more your astonishment at it will grow—for the more you understand about trees and animals, clouds and seas, the less you will find you understand about them.  The more you read about them and watch them, the more infinitely and inexpressibly wonderful you find them, and the more you get humbled and awestruck at the boundless wisdom and love of Our Father in Heaven, and Christ the Word of God who planned and made this wondrous world, and the Holy Spirit of God who is working this wondrous world.  I tell you, my friends, that as St. Paul says, “If a man will be wise, let him become a fool that he may be wise.”  Let him go about feeling how short-sighted, and stupid, and ignorant he is—and how infinitely wise Christ the Word of God is, by whom all things were made, to whom all belong.  Let him go about wondering day and night, always astonished more and more, as everything he sees gives him some fresh proof of the glory of God; till he falls down on his knees and cries out with the Psalmist, “Lord, what is man that Thou art mindful of him, or the son of man, that Thou so regardest him?”  When I consider Thy Heavens, even the work of Thine hands, I say, What is man? and yet Thou madest man to have dominion over the works of Thine hands, and hast put all things in subjection under his feet—the fowl of the air and the fishes of the sea, and whatsoever walketh through the paths of the seas.  O Lord, our Governor, how excellent is Thy name in all the world.  In comparison of Thee what is man’s wisdom?  What is man’s power?  Thou alone art glorious, for by Thee are all things, and for Thee they were made, and are created, that Thou mightest rejoice in the works of Thy own hands, and bless the creatures which Thy love has made!

XXII. THE SAILOR’S GOD.  PREACHED TO SAILORS AT A LITTLE FISHING VILLAGE IN CORNWALL, 1843

“They that go down to the sea in ships, and occupy their business in great waters; these men see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.”

    —Ps. cvii. 23, 24.

My brothers—for though I do not know most of you even by name, yet you are still my brothers, for His sake in whose name you were baptized—my brothers, it has been often said that seamen and fishermen ought to be the most religious men in the country.  And why?  Because they, more than any set of men, see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep.

The cotton-spinner, who is shut up in a factory all day long, with nothing before his eyes but his loom, and nothing to look at beyond his own house but dingy streets and smoking furnace chimneys—he, poor man, sees very little of the works of the Lord.  Man made the world of streets and shops and machinery in which that poor workman lives and dies.  What wonder is it if he forgets the God who made him—the God who made the round world, and set it so fast that it should not be moved, and has given the sea its bounds that it should not overflow them at any time?  How much better off are you seamen than such a man as that!

And you are better off too, even, than most field labourers and farmers.  They are not shut up in towns, it is true; they have God’s beautiful earth to till and keep: but they are too safe on shore!  Yes; it may seem a strange thing to say; but you ought to thank God that your trade is a dangerous one—you have more to put you in mind of God than the labouring man!

And why?  In the first place, as I said, fishermen and sailors see more of the wonderful works of God than any other set of men.  Man may cut and change the earth—mining and quarrying and building—till it hardly looks like God’s earth, but he cannot change the sea!  There it is, just as God made it at first.  Millions of rivers have run into it, yet it is not over full; cliffs have been wearing away and falling into it for six thousand years, yet is it not filled up.  Millions of vessels have been sailing over it, yet they have left no mark upon it; it seems unchangeable, like God who made it.  What is the use of my praising the sea to you?  Do you not all know it, and fear it, and love it too? and does it not put you in mind of God who made it? who made that mighty water for the use of men, and filled it with thousands of different kinds of fishes, and weeds, and wonderful things for your use and comfort; and who has made it so strong that it shall keep you always in awe and fear and watchfulness, looking to God to save you—and yet so gentle and calm that you can sail upon its bosom, and there find food for your families.  Which of you, who has any godly heart in him, can help feeling, sometimes at least when at sea, that he is seeing the wonderful works of God!

I said that you ought to thank God that your trade was a dangerous one, and I said that the sea should always keep you in fear and watchfulness, and looking to God to preserve you.  Now, do you not see how these two sayings go together, and make each other plain.  You seamen and fishermen are in continual danger; your lives are in your hands every moment—the belaying of a sheet, the strength of a bit of canvas, the toughness of a deal board, may settle your fate in a moment, and make all the difference between life and death.  If they are sound, you may go back to a happy home, and see wife and children coming to meet you when you run on shore at morning from your honest labour; and if they fail—if that weak cordage, and these planks, and thinner canvas, on which your lives depend, do but give way, what is left for you the next moment? what but a grave in the deep, deep sea, and your wives widows and your children orphans, and your bodies devoured by ugly creeping things, and your souls gone—gone where?  My good men—you who sit around me now so strong and full of life and skill and happiness—where would your souls be if you were drowned at sea to-morrow?

What a question!  Oh, ask it yourselves honestly!  I have been out in gales myself, and I cannot understand how you can go out, in thirty feet of timber, upon that mighty sea, with the wind howling over your heads like a death-bell, and the great hungry waves chasing you for miles, each one able and willing to swallow you up into the deep, and the gulls screaming over you as if they were waiting to feed upon your floating carcases, and you alone, in a tiny boat, upon that waste, howling wilderness of waters!—I cannot understand, I say, how, when a man is in such a case as that, day after day, year after year, he can forget his God, the only friend who can save him from the sea! the only friend who can send him safe out to his work in the evening, and bring him home safe to his wife at morning.  One would think that when you went down to the shore in the morning, you would say, “Oh, God! without whose help I am no stronger than a piece of sea-weed floating up and down, take care of me!  Take care of my wife and my children; and forgive me my sins, and do not punish me by calling me away this night to answer for them all!”  And when you come home at night, you would say, “Oh, God! who hast kept me safe all this day, what can I do to show how thankful I am to Thee!”  Ay! what can you do to show how thankful you are to God for His care?  What ought you to do to show your thankfulness to Him?  What must you do to show your thankfulness to Him?  He has told you.  “If you love me, He says, keep my commandments.  Do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God.”

These, my friends, are the holy and thankful thoughts which ought to be in your hearts every day and hour.  This is the thought which God meant to put into your hearts when He made sailors of you, and brought you into the world, by the sea-side, to take up your business in great waters.  You might have been born in Bristol or Liverpool or London, and never seen anything but streets and houses, and man’s clumsy work.  But God has been very good to you.  He has brought you up here, in this happy West country, where you may see His wonderful works day and night; where you ought never to forget that you have a Father in heaven who made the sea, and who keeps you safe at sea by night and day.  God has given you a great deal.  He has given you two books to read—the book of God’s Word, the Bible, and the book of God’s earth, the sky and sea and land, which is above you and below you and around you day and night.  If you can read and understand them properly, you will find in them everything which you want; you may learn from them to be holy in this world and happy in the next.  God has given you, too, fathers, mothers, wives, children, a comfortable home, a holy trade—the same which the apostles followed.  God has given you England for your country, and the West country—the best place in England for your home.  God has given you a good Queen, and good magistrates and landlords.  God has given you health and strength, and seamanship, and clear heads and stout hearts.  And God has made you seamen and fishermen, and given you a business in which you can see God’s mighty power and wisdom day and night, and feel Him taking care of you when you cannot take care of yourselves.

Therefore you ought to thank God that yours is a dangerous business, because it teaches you to trust in God alone for safety.  And what are you to give Him in return?  What does God require of you?  You cannot pay Him back again for all His mercies, for they are past counting, but you must pay Him back all you can.  And what must you pay Him back?  First, you must trust in God; for he who comes to God and wishes to walk with God through life, as a good man should, must believe that there is a God, and that He will reward those who look to Him.

I never heard of a sailor who did not believe in God; for how can a man look at the sea, and not say to himself, God made the sea!  But I have seen a great many sailors who did not trust in God.  As long as it is fine weather, and everything goes right, they will forget God, and fancy that it is their own seamanship, and not God alone, which keeps their boats afloat, and their own skill in fishing, and not God alone, which sends the shoals of fish into their nets; and so they are truly fine-weather sailors—men who are only fit for calm seas and light breezes, when they can take care of themselves without God’s help; but when a squall comes their hearts change, by God’s mercy.  For when a man has done all he can to save himself, and all he can do is no use, and his nets are adrift, and his boat on her beam ends, and the foaming rocks are on his lee, then he comes to his senses at last, and prays.  Why did he not pray before?  Why did he not save himself from all that misery and trouble and danger by thanking God for taking care of him, and praying to God to take care of him still.  “Foolish men are plagued for their offences, and because of their wickedness.  They that go down to the sea in ships, and occupy their business on great waters; these men see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep; for at His word the stormy wind ariseth which lifteth up the waves thereof; they are carried up to heaven, and down again into the deep; their soul melteth away because of the trouble; they reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit’s end.”  And justly they are punished for forgetting God.  God made the calm as well as the storm.  Could they not remember that?  But look at God’s mercy; for when they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, He delivers them out of all their distress.  For He makes the storm to cease, so that the waves are still; then are they glad because they are at rest, and so God brings them to the harbour where they would be.

Is there an old man sitting here who has not had this happen to him?  And what did you do, my friend, when God had saved you out of that danger?  It is easy to tell what you ought to have done; you ought to have gone home and fallen on your knees, and prayed to God; you ought to have said, Oh, Lord, I am a miserable, foolish sinner, who can only remember Thee when Thou art angry; an ungrateful son, who only thinks of his father when he beats him!  Oh, God, forgive me, I ought to have trusted in Thee before!  I deserved all my danger and punishment and more.  I did not deserve to be pardoned and saved from it!  I deserve to be at the bottom of the sea at this moment.  But forgive me, forgive me, loving and merciful Father, for the sake of Thy dear Son Jesus Christ, who died on the cross that I might be saved from death!

And when you had prayed thus, the next thing you ought to have asked yourself was—What does God require of me? how can I try to pay Him back—how can I show that I am thankful?  My good friends, what does God require of you?  “To do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.”  I told you He required of you first to trust in Him at all hours, in all weathers.  This is the next thing which He requires of you—To do justly, to cheat no man, not in the price of a pilchard; to love mercy; to love your neighbours, as Christ loved you; to help your neighbours, as Christ helped you and all mankind, by dying to save you; and as Christ has helped you, night after night, when you might have been buried in the waves, if Christ had not prayed for you that you might have time to repent, and bring forth fruits fit for repentance.  To love mercy; to forgive every man who hurts you, for they are all Christian men and your brothers.  Christ loved every one!  Why should not you?  If your wife or friend loved anything, you would be kind to it for their sakes; and so, if you really love God, and are thankful to Him for all His mercy and kindness, you will love every man you meet, for God’s sake, who loved them and gave His Son for them.

“To walk humbly with your God.”  That is the beginning and end of all—you must be humble; you must confess that you are foolish, and God alone is wise; that you are weak, and God alone is strong; that you are poor fishermen, whom any squall may drown, and that God is the Great, Loving, Almighty God, who made heaven and earth, and the sea and all that is therein, and who helps all those who put their trust in Him.  This is what God asks you to do in return for all He has done for you!  To pray to Him, to praise Him, to put your trust in Him, to keep His commandments like thankful, humble, obedient, loving children.  They who do these things, and only they, shall never fail.  By night and day, in summer and winter, in storm and calm, in health and sickness, in richness and poverty, God will be with them.  Christ will be with them.  He sat in a fisherman’s boat once, on the sea of Tiberias, and He will sit in your boats if you will but ask Him.  He will steer you, He will save you, He will take care of your wives and children when you are far away, and He will bring you through the troublesome waves of this mortal life, so that, having faith for your anchor, and hope for your sail, and charity for your crew, you may at last land on the happy shore of everlasting life, there to live with God, world without end.  God grant it may be so!

My good brothers—for I am a Christian like you, and an Englishman like you, and a west countryman like you—I thank our Father in heaven that He has brought me from the other end of England, and put this message into my mouth, to remind you of who you are—that you are the men who see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep; and that God will say to every one of you at the day of judgment,—I taught you all this, I gave you all this, I did all this for you, what have you done for Me in return?

Go home—read over these verses in 107th Psalm, and think over what I have said.  Do it to-night, for the weather has broken up—there are gales coming.  Which of you can say that he will be alive next Sunday?